


looking for an answer

by skateside



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Angst, Coping, Gen, Implied Death, Sunshine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 09:46:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16616627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skateside/pseuds/skateside
Summary: "Is there sunshine where you are?"And of course, he doesn't get his answer.





	looking for an answer

**Author's Note:**

> Written 11/12/18. I've been feeling some kind of sadness ever since the anniversary of the Bowl show, and this is just something that stemmed from that. Takes place October, 2017.

 

It feels so real when Mike leans his head against Chester's shoulder, savoring the scent of his cologne and the feel of their arms wrapped around each other. It sounds so real as Chester sings to him.

 

He doesn't know where they are. Doesn't know how they ended up alone, or when they started slowdancing or even why. Mike didn't have any talent when it came to dancing- his wedding night was a disaster when the dancing started- and Chester didn't act this cheesy with anybody but Talinda.

And why are they here slowdancing in the dark if they're married to other women? Why is Mike clinging to Chester like there's no one else in the world? And why doesn't Mike give a damn?

 

He realizes quickly. Because much to his own dismay sometimes, he's pretty intelligent. Chester used to always praise him for it.

Used to. Not anymore. Never again.

 

"This isn't real." Chester's still singing, but Mike's mostly just trying to say it to himself anyways. He wants it to be real, but he can't pretend it is.

 

Chester stops. Mike silently pleads that he isn't mad. But he isn't, all he says is, "I know."

 

But that glimmer of hope in Mike's heart won't let up anyways. So he lifts his head up to see Chester, to look into his eyes, and asks quietly, "But... can you stay?"

 

Chester's smile doesn't reach his eyes. It hasn't been for months, anyway. He raises a hand, placing it lightly against the side of Mike's face. It feels so real. "I'm sorry."

 

Mike knows what it means. _No. Of course not._ So he bites back the tears and places his own hand over Chester's, and tries not to beg when he says, "Keep singing. Please."

 

He savors every last moment because he knows it's exactly that- the last moments. This will never happen again. They'll never see each other again.

Despite his attempts to keep his eyes open to see Chester, Mike is struggling to stay awake. The edges of his vision fade out as he listens to the words Chester sings.

 

_You are my sunshine,_

_My only sunshine..._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then Mike wakes up.

 

He doesn't remember the dream for a few, unappreciated moments. When he feels Anna's hand against his cheek, realizes she's wiping away his tears, that's when it all comes back.

The recollection of how real it all seemed- Chester's eyes, his voice- knocks the breath out of Mike. He keeps his eyes closed so he doesn't have to see the pity clouding his wife's own. The guilt sends his head spinning. How many times can she wake up to him crying over his best friend before she loses it?

 

Anna takes her hand away when Mike gets his breathing under control. He's grateful she kept the lamp off so his eyes don't burn when he finally opens them. She's already turned away from him, trying to chase what little sleep she could.

Mike's almost hurt. But really, he doesn't care. He doesn't want to talk about it anyways.

 

He decides to get up. Stretch. Walk around. Try his hardest to avoid the liquor cabinet in the kitchen- he's been visiting it too much lately, anyways.

And then he ends up in his studio.

 

The breath is knocked out of him again when he sees how the door to the makeshift vocal booth is slightly ajar. Something inside of him wants to open it, walk into it, say something and see if Chester responds. But he won't. He never does anymore.

 

He sits down on the couch, gazes out the window, wishes he could go back to bed. But there's no way he could sleep after that dream. Chester kept him up in the studio for nearly 20 years, why would he stop now?

 

Mike wants it to be daylight already. It's always hard, but it's not as bad during the day. Nighttime is so lonely. Sure, he could call the guys, they're not getting anymore sleep than he is nowadays. But even if he can't admit it to himself, there's only one person Mike wants to talk to about this.

 

Like typical fashion, thousands of words begin to roll around Mike's head. Angry words, hurt words, miserable words. He just wants to scream until his chest feels a little less empty, a little less heavy, but that won't do any good. All that comes out, as he watches how the moon shines in the dark sky, is, "Is there sunshine where you are?"

 

And of course, he doesn't get his answer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The day after the show, Mike sleeps a little longer than he's accustomed to nowadays. He thinks it's because of all the energy he spent the night before. When he sits up, the heaviness settles again in his aching chest. He sighs, hopes Anna is still asleep so she doesn't ask what's wrong, wishes he could sleep until this year is long over with.

 

When his feet hit the flor, he realizes the sun is rising. He makes his way out of the bedroom and throughout the house, thinks about all the sunrises he's watched for the last three months. He can't help himself from wondering if this one is any different, hoping that it is, as he walks through the backdoor and steps out onto the porch.

 

All the sunrises before this, they never impressed Mike. Never took his breath away. He spent three months gazing at cloudy, grey skies over quiet breakfasts with Anna and cups of black coffe.

Now, he stands out all alone, watching the most colorful sunrise he's seen in years. Free of clouds, the sun peeking over he horizon and painting the sky with all different shades of blue and purple and red and pink. It's like the most stunning painting Mike had ever seen. He can't believe its real.

 

Something else settles in Mike's chest, drowning out all the heaviness he's been carrying since July. Something warmer. Like he hasn't felt since the last time he was onstage with _all_ of his bandmates. Something like... Fondness.

 

Mike smiles up at the sky. "Good morning, Chester."

He finally got his answer.


End file.
